Mudblood in the Manor
by arrandomness
Summary: After the altercation at Malfoy Manor, Hermione gets left behind. She is confined in the cellar with Theodore Nott, and an unexpected companionship forms. (Rated M for language)
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

* * *

Hermione was conscious, but barely. She struggled to keep her eyes open, so she could see what was going on around her, but it was very difficult.

"NOOOOOOO!" Ron yelled, as he and Harry barreled into the room. "Expelliarmus!"

"Stupefy!" she heard Harry yell. Then she was dragged from the floor and held in a standing position.

"STOP OR SHE DIES!" Bellatrix's voice was by her ear. "Drop your wands. Drop them, or we'll see exactly how filthy her blood is." Hermione's eyes slipped closed. After a moment's pause, she repeated, "I said, drop them!"

There was a burning sensation at her throat, but that was a picnic compared to what she had just endured.

"All right," Harry shouted, and there was the sound of wood clattering to the floor. Hermione forced her eyes open. Her friends were standing before her, arms raised in surrender.

"Good!" called Bellatrix. "Draco, pick them up! The Dark Lord is coming, Harry Potter! Your death approaches!"

Hermione knew she was correct, as Harry's face was scrunched up in pain, no doubt feeling Voldemort's glee at their capture.

"Now," said Bellatrix. "Cissy, I think we ought to tie these little heroes up again, while Greyback takes care of Miss Mudblood. I am sure the Dark Lord will not begrudge you the girl, Greyback, after what you have done tonight."

There was a strange noise, coming from above her head, but she had not the strength to investigate the cause. Then the chandelier fell from the ceiling, and there was a vague sense of weight as the room shifted positions. "Hermione!" she heard Ron's voice. She squinted to see him struggling to get to her, but he was blocked by the debris and hexes flying around the room.

From somewhere to her left, she heard Harry cry, "Stupefy!" and then a crash from the opposite side of the room.

"Dobby!" shrieked Narcissa. Dobby? Where had Dobby come from? "You! You dropped the chandelier?"

"You must not hurt Harry Potter," came Dobby's little voice.

"Kill him, Cissy!" Bellatrix yelled, and then a loud _crack!_ "You dirty little monkey! How dare you take a witch's wand, how dare you defy your masters?"

"Dobby has no master! Dobby is a free elf, and Dobby has come to save Harry Potter and his friends!" And despite the utter pain and exhaustion Hermione felt, she had room for a swell of pride at Dobby's declaration. At least her SPEW efforts had not been wasted on him.

"Harry Potter must leave now!" Dobby said frantically.

"No, Dobby! Hermione is still—"

A flash of silver flew across the room, and Bellatrix's inhuman scream filled the air as Dobby took hold of Ron, Harry and Griphook and disappeared.

For a minute, lights flashed, things smashed and Bellatrix screamed. With the focus not on her anymore, Hermione was better able to ascertain her surroundings. Slowly, as the pain began to ebb, terror set in. She had been left behind. She was a Mudblood, and Voldemort would be here any second.

"Bella!" Narcissa finally yelled. "Be calm. The Dark Lord will be here momentarily. He will not be pleased that Harry Potter is not here."

"We can give him Potter's Mudblood instead!" came Lucius's voice.

"Yes, yes!" said Bellatrix, sounding slightly pacified. "She will do."

"Wait." Draco's voice was small, lacking the arrogant drawl that was always present at Hogwarts. "If the Mudblood is dead, Potter has no reason to come back. But if she is alive, they will come back to save her. It's the kind of stupid bravery they always displayed in school. Then we can make sure he doesn't escape," he finished.

"Yes, Draco, that is very astute," his father praised. "Throw her in the cellar. The Dark Lord can get the message to Potter."

The pressure on Hermione's abdomen suddenly disappeared, and she felt herself being levitated. She did her best to ward off the motion sickness. Without warning, she fell hard to the ground.

Then there was warmth next to her ear, and Draco breathed, "I just saved your life, Granger. You better fucking do something with it. I can't live like this anymore." And with that, he was gone, and Hermione gave in to the pull of unconsciousness.

* * *

Author's Note: This story started out as a Draco/Hermione story, but as I was perusing the various Harry Potter Fanfiction sites, I noticed a lack of Hermione/Theo stories. So I changed mine a little bit. The title isn't my favorite, but it was the best I could think of. It may change in the future.

Obviously, this scene was based very heavily on the Malfoy Manor scene in Deathly Hallows. Credit for anything you recognize should be given to JK Rowling.

This is just the prologue, so I can see what people might think. Future chapters will be much more substantial. I hope to be able to update once a week.

Some points I would like to make:  
-No, this will not be a Dramione story at all. Draco saved her for purely selfish reasons: he is unsatisfied with his life as a Death Eater, and thinks she is his best chance to get out of it. Also, I needed a way to get Hermione to the cellar, and this is how I chose to do it.  
-I really like the idea of using Nott as a character, since he is only mentioned a few times in the books. This gives me a lot of room to play with him. Hermione, however, I will be keeping as close to canon as possible. However, since I am neither JK Rowling nor perfect, you will have to forgive anything you don't agree with.  
-There is some strong language in this story. Not a lot, but enough that I felt it appropriate to rate this story M. If that is not your cup of tea, I would suggest going somewhere else.  
-Finally, I am from the US, so any British readers will have to excuse my "American-isms," as I once saw it called.

Anyway, please leave me a review, as I love to hear what you have to say. Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 1

I do not own Harry Potter.

* * *

Hermione slept. And slept. When she finally woke, she felt she ten years must have passed. But even then, she didn't have the strength to sit up. So she adjusted herself on the ground and tried to examine her surroundings from her position there. She vaguely remembered that she had been brought to the cellar at Malfoy Manor. It was very dark; she couldn't see five feet in front of her. The ground was hard and dusty, and the air smelled of mildew. She realized smugly that her beaded bag was still stuffed in her sock. Stupid Bellatrix, so worried about being bested magically that she hadn't even thought to search her the Muggle way.

After a few minutes, Hermione couldn't take not knowing what was around her. She summoned all her willpower and lifted herself to her hands and knees. She crawled forward until she hit a wall, then around the perimeter of the room, leaving her shoes so she would know when she returned to the starting point.

The room was larger than she expected it to be. It took her several minutes to get back to her shoes. She didn't have the strength to stand up, but when she felt above her, she couldn't feel the ceiling, so she assumed she could stand if she so desired.

After she had gathered all the details she could of her situation, the questions started. How long had she been down here? How much longer would she be? Would she get food? Did Harry and Ron make it out ok?

Harry and Ron. Thinking about them made her panic. Were they ok? What would they do now? Where would they go? She had the beaded bag, with all their supplies. She didn't even know if they had wands. And, while she loved her friends very much, she couldn't help but admit that she was the brains of their operation. What would they do without her?

Suddenly, a groan interrupted Hermione's musings. She screamed, startled. She thought she was alone!

"Hello?" she called tentatively. "Who's there?" All she got in response was another groan. She started moving toward the sound. Finally she came to a giant lump on the floor.

She felt around until she found the lump's face. "Hello?" she repeated. "Who are you?"

"Nnnnhhh," said the lump.

"Are you hurt?" she asked softly. "Can I help?"

"Not," it said finally. No, she corrected. He. It was definitely a male voice.

"Sorry?" Hermione asked.

"I'm…not."

"Not? Not what?"

"My name…is Nott…Theo Nott," he finally managed to say.

Theo Nott. He was a Slytherin boy in their year at Hogwarts. But his father was a Death Eater. From what Harry said about the graveyard ritual after the Triwizard Tournament, he was one in the inner circle. Why would his son be in the Malfoy dungeon with her?

Hermione backed away as quick as she could.

"You stay the hell away from me," she said fiercely.

"Huh?" was all Nott managed.

"I don't know why you're here. To spy on me, maybe, or to try to befriend me to get me to spill my secrets. Well, it won't work. I won't tell you a thing!"

"Fine. But could you…do that quietly?" he strained to ask her.

"I will not—what?" Hermione stopped short. She had been expecting him to fight her, to explain that he really was a prisoner here, too, and that they should work together. She hadn't been expecting him to agree with her, and she definitely hadn't expected him to have a smart mouth, especially when he seemed so weak.

"Be quiet," Nott repeated. "Need…sleep."

Hermione stopped talking. She backed away until she hit a wall behind her. "What the hell happened to you, anyway?" she asked. Despite being terrified, she was curious as to why he was here.

"Didn't want to kill people," Nott said. "Got tortured."

That did sound like a very Voldemort-like thing to do. But she wasn't so gullible that she would believe anything he would tell her. "Oh," was all she said in reply.

"Who are you, anyway?" Nott asked. This seemed like such an absurd question. But then she realized, there was no light, and she and Nott hadn't exactly been bosom-buddies at school. He would have no reason to recognize her voice.

"Hermione Granger," she replied.

Nott snorted. "Fucking perfect," he muttered. Hermione decided she had like it better a few minutes ago, when he couldn't form coherent words. "Just…be quiet," he said once more, and after a few moments of silence, he began to snore.

Hermione was too rattled by this new discovery to go back to sleep, no matter how tired she felt. She decided to use the time productively, to make a plan to escape.

She took stock of everything she had in her beaded bag. The tent and what little food they had had been left behind at the campsite. No doubt the Death Eaters who had escaped Bellatrix's wrath had already gone back to scavenge what they could. She had a few chocolate bars that she kept hidden from the boys, so she could indulge when it was that time of the month. Now, however, they might be the only sustenance she had while in this dungeon. She had to escape, and quickly, if she was going to survive.

Digging through her bag, she found the clothes she had packed for herself, Harry and Ron, an assortment of potions, and several dozen books. There was also a bottle of Muggle painkillers, just in case they ran out of potions. The portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black was also in there, but she didn't dare take it out. If Phineas found out that Hermione still had her bag, he would tell Snape, who would tell the Malfoys, and she didn't even want to think about what would happen in that situation.

The next few things almost caused her to cry. Her father's pocket-knife, and her mother's favorite necklace. Her parents had given them to her just before she cast the Memory Charm, as ways to remember them in case she never made it back. Now it looked like that just might be the case. She fastened the necklace around her neck and put the knife in the pocket of her jeans. This way, if she did die down here, at least her parents would be with her.

The best thing she found, however, was the small jar of bluebell flames that she had kept since her first year at Hogwarts. She kept it for sentimental reasons; it was the first tangible proof she had that she could actually do magic. Sure, she had repaired Harry's glasses, and levitated a feather, but this was the first thing she could take home and show her parents. They had been so proud of her, and so she always kept the jar with her. Finding them in her bag now, she realized she could use them to read. She could figure out a way to escape without a wand!

As soon as this idea formed, though, she knew it couldn't work. Not with her new companion. She couldn't let him find out about her bag. He was probably a Death Eater, and he would take the first opportunity to tell his master about it. Or, if he wasn't a Death Eater, he could still use it as a bargaining chip. Either way, this had to be her secret. Sighing dejectedly, Hermione repacked the bag, curled up on the ground, and tried to sleep.

* * *

"So what the hell do you do down here, anyway?" Hermione finally asked. She had tried to give Nott the silent treatment, but she had only lasted a few hours. She was just so bored!

"Lay here and will myself to die," Nott replied emotionlessly.

"Very funny."

"Not joking." Nott said. "I spent a few weeks trying to escape, then I resigned myself to the fact that I will spend the rest of my life down here. So I'd rather it be a short life then a long one."

"That's awful," Hermione told him.

"Who are you to judge me?"

"No, I didn't mean it like that. I understand why you feel that way. But it's awful that you've been put in this situation."

"Yes, well, not everyone gets to be friends with the Chosen One. The rest of us just have to play the hand we're dealt."

"Excuse me!" Hermione protested. "I did not accomplish what I did because I was friends with Harry! I did it on my own."

"I notice you used the past tense. Are you trying to tell me you're not friends anymore?"

"What? Of course not! Why would you say something like that?"

"Well I know your little friends were here. You were all rather loud up there. Of course, I didn't know who you were at the time. So how come you're still here and they're not? They abandoned you."

"They did no such thing! They had to leave, and if they had stayed here, we all would have been killed by You-Know-Who! Do you know how they escaped, anyway?"

"A house elf, I think. It happened in a different dungeon, so I don't know all the details."

"A different dungeon?"

"Of course. You didn't think a nice house like this only has one dungeon, did you?"

"Honestly, I haven't put a lot of thought into it, seeing as my house doesn't have any dungeons, and I never want one that does!"

"Right. I forgot I was talking to Goody-Two-Shoes Granger."

"Shut up. And tell me what you know."

"I can't do both. I can either shut up, or I can talk."

"Merlin's pants, you are annoying! Talk!"

"They were put in the same cellar as Ollivander and the Lovegood girl. There was a lot of screaming, then a pop that sounded like an elf, a short squabble and then your dumb friends charged upstairs."

"My friends are not dumb!"

"Ok."

"Ok?"

"I don't feel like arguing with you. It's exhausting."

"They were smart enough to leave before You-Know-Who got here."

"Keep telling yourself that. Also, I thought your little gang was famous for calling the Dark Lord by his chosen name. That you were above this 'You-Know-Who' business."

"Normally, we are. But there is a tracking jinx on the name. Whenever you say it, Snatchers can find you within seconds. That's how we were caught. Harry got excited and forgot. Surely you knew that?"

"Nah. I've been down here too long to get any news. What was Potter excited about?"

"Nothing!" Hermione's inner warning sirens went off. What was she thinking? She was so bored and glad to be talking to someone that she had almost given secrets to the enemy! She had to be more careful. "Nothing," she repeated. "I'm going to sleep."

Nott didn't respond, so Hermione curled up on the ground, using her bag as a pillow, and fell into a fitful sleep.

* * *

The days passed like this. Hermione did her best to give Nott the silent treatment, but her boredom won out, and she would start a conversation just for something to do. They would inevitably end up arguing, and go back to ignoring each other. When he slept, she nibbled at her chocolate bars. Once a day, they would get a plate of old food, just enough to keep them from starving to death. This was the one thing they did well together. The food was so disgusting that they had no trouble sharing it. They each ate half and left the rest for the other. It wasn't ideal by any means, but they were surviving.

Then one day, there was a noise from somewhere above them. A door opening. "Get away from the door," said a voice. Hermione didn't recognize it, but for some reason it reminded her of a gorilla. "I'm coming down."

Getting away from the door wasn't a problem; they were both already there. Then there was the small light of a Lumos charm, but having not seen any light in days, it pierced her eyes. Someone stomped down the stairs, and as her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw that it was Vincent Crabbe, sporting Death Eater robes and a Dark Mark on his left arm. No wonder she didn't recognize the voice; she wasn't sure she had ever heard him talk before.

"Hey, Mudblood," he jeered. "Having a nice time in the dungeon?" He laughed, and punctuated his question with a Stinging Hex. She cried out, and covered her arm, all while being mildly surprised. She had been under the impression that Crabbe couldn't tell which end of his wand was the business end. Perhaps he so liked causing people pain that he had forced himself to learn.

"Nott, let's go. Your father wants to speak with you," he addressed Hermione's companion.

"Don't want to," Nott stated weakly.

"You don't have a choice."

"Just tell him my answer is the same as it's always been," Nott pleaded.

"Nope._ I_ don't disobey orders," Crabbe said. "And my orders were to bring you to him."

"Whatever," Nott said, giving in. "Let's get this over with."

He struggled to stand up. It seemed his legs would not support his weight.

"Faster, Blood Traitor," Crabbe egged him on. Blood Traitor? But that would mean Nott had betrayed the Death Eaters.

As they boys passed the spot where Hermione was, Crabbe made a short detour and punched Hermione in the face. She felt a blinding pain, then blood flowing freely down her face. Then Crabbe made his way upstairs, guffawing, and dragging Nott with him. "Later, Mudblood!"

"Oh, leave her alone, would you?" Nott said, sounding tired. "She hasn't done anything to you."

"No, but it was fun!" Crabbe called back.

Free of company, Hermione pulled her beaded bag out of her sock and dug in it until she found a shirt to hold over her bleeding nose. She had some potions that she could have used, but since it didn't look like she would be leaving the dungeon for a while, she figured she could let it heal on its own and save the potions for a time she really did need them.

Hermione took this time to think about what had just happened. But between the pain in her face and arm, and the shock of seeing Crabbe again, she couldn't make sense of it. Finally, she calmed down and made a mental list of everything she knew.

1. Theodore Nott was being held in the dungeon.

2. He was not being well taken care of.

3. Crabbe had said, "Your father wants to speak with you."

4. Crabbe implied that Nott had disobeyed orders. (From whom?)

5. Nott replied that his answer was the same as always, suggesting that this had happened before.

6. Nott had defended her when Crabbe called her a Mudblood.

Logically, all this information pointed to one conclusion: Theodore Nott was not a Death Eater, despite his father's wishes. But the last year had proved to her that appearances could be deceiving. There was no way she was going to just believe it.

Her nose had stopped bleeding, so she put the shirt back in the bag and stowed it back in her sock. Then her musings were interrupted by a long, drawn out scream from above. Hermione knew what it meant: someone was being tortured. And based on current events, it was most likely Nott. Poor kid, she thought. She might not like or trust him, but after having lived through the Cruciatus Curse, she wouldn't wish it upon anyone. Except perhaps Bellatrix herself, and Voldemort. She could make exceptions for them.

The screaming continued for several minutes, and it tore Hermione's heart in half. It was so awful, to hear someone in such agony. She covered her ears and sang to herself, in a vain attempt to block out the noise.

"YOU WILL DO AS YOU'RE TOLD!" an unfamiliar voice finally roared.

"I will not!" said Nott, barely audible through the ceiling. "You'll have to kill me first!"

"That can be arranged! No son of mine will dishonor this family by refusing to acknowledge those in power!" Of course. This was Nott senior, apparently attempting to persuade his son to choose the Death Eaters. "Avada—"

"No!" a woman's voice yelled. "You cannot kill him!"

"And why not?" Nott sounded furious.

"Because no matter what he has done, he is still my son," said the woman, who must be Nott's mother. "We will find a place for him in the new world, but it will not be under a tombstone. I cannot kill my son."

"Fine!" Nott yelled. "He will stay in the dungeon until such a place is found. Crucio!"

Nott screamed again, and Hermione resumed her singing. When it stopped, she heard something being dragged across the floor, then the cellar door opened again, and Nott came tumbling down the stairs.

"Until next time, Blood Traitor!" Crabbe called cheerfully. He slammed the door, and there was complete darkness once again.

Hermione crawled over to where Nott had landed. She only intended to make him more comfortable, since he was currently in a tangled heap, but when she touched his head, she could feel the blood pouring out of it. "Oh, my God!" she exclaimed, and made a decision. She pulled her beaded bag back out of her sock and rummaged around in it. The first thing she took out was the jar of blue flames. She put it on the ground on her right side, so she could see the boy in front of her.

The most glaring injury was the one on his head. There was a huge gash spanning his forehead; he must have hit the steps pretty hard on the way down. Hermione pulled the Essence of Dittany from her bag and applied a few drops to the wound. He hissed as the potion did its work, but he stayed still, and soon the gash was closed. Then, she looked at the rest of him. His right leg was bent at an odd angle, and there were bruises everywhere. He was also very sweaty, a result of the Cruciatus Curse.

Hermione decided she had to do something about his leg. Scooting down so she could reach it, she said quietly, "This is going to hurt, but it's for your own good. I'm sorry." Then she put her hands on either side of the obvious break and straightened his leg back into position. Nott screamed, and started thrashing around, but Hermione kept her hands where they were, saying, "You need to calm down! Stay still so I can bind this!" Nott, however, was having none of it. He struggled and groaned for a few more seconds, and suddenly it stopped. Hermione thought the worst for a split second, but then, hearing his labored breathing, realized he had just passed out from the pain.

"Well, at least he's still," she muttered to herself. She got the bloody t-shirt from her bag and began ripping it into long strands. She wasn't able to heal the bone herself, so she would bind it in place so it could heal on its own. She then retrieved several books so he could elevate his leg. Satisfied with her work, she put the bluebell flames back in her bag, curled up on the ground, and fell into a fitful sleep.

Hermione woke some time later to the sound of Nott groaning in pain. She quickly moved toward the sound.

"How are you feeling?" she asked quietly.

"Like I was tortured and pushed down a flight of stairs," he responded sarcastically.

"No need to be rude. How is your head?"

"Pounding."

"And your leg?"

"Excruciating."

"Yes, well, at least you're alive."

"I didn't ask you to help me, you know."

"I do know," Hermione said. "But I'm not heartless. I couldn't stand to see you there and not do anything."

"Why not?" Nott asked. "I'm just the son of a Death Eater, after all."

"It's…hard to explain," said Hermione slowly. "I'm still don't trust you, and I still don't like you, and I still haven't ruled out the possibility that you are a Death Eater. However, I am sure that you aren't down here on an assignment."

"Because I was tortured? Well I'm glad it took that to make you see I'm telling the truth."

"It's not that," Hermione countered. "In fact, if you had only been tortured, it would have made me more suspicious."

"Excuse me?" Nott asked incredulously. "Explain that one to me, will you?"

"You-Know-Who is not a kind and generous leader."

"Duh."

"Will you quit interrupting me? Merlin, it's like talking to a four-year-old."

"Fine, your Majesty, please go on."

She glared at him, even though he couldn't see her. "Anyway," she continued, "It wouldn't surprise me at all if he tortured his followers for fun, just as he does his enemies. And as everyone thinks I'm a naive little girl, torturing you to make me feel sorry for you seems very logical."

"Get to the point, would you?"

"Shut up. If you had been escorted downstairs and set nicely on display, I would have left you there to suffer."

"Thanks a lot. Aren't Gryffindors supposed to be nice and honorable?"

"I thought I told you to stop interrupting me!" She paused, and then said more calmly, "The war has changed everyone. I can't afford to be nice anymore. There are only a handful of people I trust, and you aren't one of them. But that's not the point. The point is that you were tortured and then disposed of. If I hadn't helped you, you would have bled to death. And dead people can't gather information. So I deduced that even if you are a Death Eater, you aren't here to spy on me. So I felt obligated to help you."

"So, it took me almost dying for you to trust me? Again, I say thanks a lot."

"That's not the point! I just said I still don't trust you. But I am sick of this war. There is no need to add to the casualties if I can help it."

There was a short pause. "How did you heal me?" Nott asked. "It's not like the Malfoys would have thrown down potions with me. And there was light."

"Umm," Hermione stalled for time to think. She had hoped this wouldn't come up. She thought maybe he was too far gone when she had the flames out that he wouldn't remember anything. That obviously wasn't the case. She tried to lie. "Well, I set your leg and bound it with my shirt. Then I put pressure on your head until it stopped bleeding. You're welcome!" She finished quickly, hoping he would drop the subject.

No such luck. "I'm not an idiot, Granger. If that were true, there would be a scab on my head. But there's nothing there, like it never happened. That suggests magic. And, there was the light…"

"I—oh fine. There's not much point in hiding it anymore." She pulled her bag back out of her sock and took the flames out. Nott gasped. "This is the bag we kept everything in while we were search—" Hermione stopped abruptly. She could have kicked herself! She had almost given away a vital secret.

"Searching for what?"

"Uhhh…a way to kill You-Know-Who. Doesn't matter," Hermione said quickly. "Anyway, there's an Undetectable Extension Charm on the bag. We lost most of our stuff when we got captured, but I still have some potions, books and the flames."

"Excuse me? You have books in there?"

"Yes. I like books. Shut up."

"You mean to tell me, that this whole time we've been down here, doing nothing, bored out of our damn minds, and you've had books we could have been reading."

That was not where she had been expecting him to go with that. "Well, I couldn't very well tell you about them," she argued. "I was trying to keep the whole thing a secret."

"You are unbelievable."

"Go back to sleep," Hermione snapped. "It will make us both feel better."

"I'm not sure I could sleep," Nott admitted. "It hurts too much."

Hermione had an idea. She reached in her bag and searched until she found the small bottle. She uncapped it, and dumped four pills into her hand. "Take these," she instructed. "They will help with the pain."

"What are they?" Nott asked. He took one from her and examined it.

"Ibuprofen," she replied. "It's a Muggle painkiller. Normally they're taken with water, but since I'm fresh out, you'll have to swallow them dry."

"Muggle?" Nott asked skeptically. "Does it even work?"

"Of course it does. I could give you the scientific explanation if you wish."

"No thanks. I'll just trust you, I suppose," he said grudgingly. He popped the pill in his mouth, and began to chew.

"No, don't ch—" Hermione started to say.

"Blaugh!" Nott yelled, and turned his head to spit it out. "That's bloody disgusting!"

"Yes, well, you're not supposed to chew it. You swallow it whole. That's why you normally take it with water."

"Why didn't you say something?" he demanded.

"I tried!"

"Try harder next time!"

"There's not going to be a next time! I haven't got many of those left, and you've wasted one."

"It's just a Muggle thing. Why do you care so much?"

"Because they work, and I need them!"

"Whatever. Just give me one."

Hermione slammed the other three pills into Nott's outstretched hand. "Swallow them whole, one at a time. It's harder dry, but you can do it."

Nott did as he was instructed. "I don't feel any different."

"They will take a few minutes to kick in," Hermione said. "Muggles don't have magic; you can't expect them to be as fucking perfect as you. Now shut up and go back to sleep."

Nott turned his head away from her and closed his eyes. "When I wake up, I expect there to be reading material available."

"Whatever."

Nott was quiet. After a moment, he said, "Thank you," very quietly.

"You're welcome," Hermione replied, just as quietly. "Don't expect me to do it again." And just like that, the moment was ruined.


	3. Chapter 2

I do not own Harry Potter.

* * *

Over the next few days, Hermione and Nott became more accustomed to each other. They slept and woke at the same time, they talked while they ate, and they even began playing games, though since they came from two different worlds, they usually weren't very successful. When they were fairly certain that nobody would come down to bother them, Hermione pulled out her Bluebell flames and some books, and they read together. Sometimes they would talk about what they were reading, and Hermione was surprised to find that while he didn't advertise it in school, Nott was actually quite intelligent.

"How do you think Apparition wards work anyway?" Hermione asked.

"Well, in order to create a ward against something, you have to first understand how the something works. Apparition is essentially tearing your body into tiny invisible pieces, sending them to the destination, and reassembling them. That's why concentration is so important. If you start thinking about something else, some of your pieces don't make it. Hence, splinching."

"So then the wards will create a…field, for lack of a better word, that prevents the molecules from travelling."

"The what?"

"Well, I'm attempting to apply some Muggle science to it. We all live in the same world, and just because wizards have heightened abilities doesn't mean we don't obey the laws of physics."

"The laws of what?"

"Oh, never mind. I'll explain it some other time. Basically, I am calling the tiny pieces that our bodies get split into 'molecules.' Just go with it."

"Sure…" Nott said, sounding unconvinced. "But you're not quite right. The field prevents you from being split into 'molecules' in the first place. Think about it. If it just prevented travel, we could just dissolve into nothingness and not go anywhere."

"Good point. How do you know all this?" Hermione asked. "When we were learning about Apparition, I tried to read about it, but I couldn't find anything. All the books just said 'Destination, Determination, Deliberation.'"

"My father spends a lot of time with the Dark Lord," Nott said quietly. "And consequently, so did I. And for all his faults, he is at his core a brilliant wizard. He set up some wards around our house, and I listened as he explained them."

"He explained what he was doing? That doesn't seem like something he would do."

"Well, it wasn't as pleasant as you make it out to be. My older brother made a comment that only Dumbledore could make Apparition wards, and the Dark Lord didn't react kindly to it."

"I didn't know you had a brother," Hermione said surprised.

"Yeah, well, I don't anymore," Nott said, barely audible. "The Dark Lord explained all of this in between bouts of the Cruciatus Curse, and then killed him for doubting his abilities."

"Oh, my God, I'm so sorry. I had no idea," Hermione was sickened by this tale. No wonder he wasn't fond of Voldemort. Though she wondered how his parents still followed him, after losing their son over something so small.

"Doesn't matter anymore. Why are you so interested in wards, anyway?"

"Well, I'm not ready to give up completely, yet. I'm still hoping that we might find a way out of this. And if we do, then I want to be prepared. There will surely be wards around the property, and we may have to break them down."

"Good luck with that. Like I said, the Dark Lord is brilliant."

"Lucky for us, so am I," said Hermione with a small smile. "And now that I know how to build a ward, I can start thinking about ways to undo one."

However, for all that they tolerated each other, there was still an extraordinary amount of bickering.

"Owww," Hermione groaned as she woke up one morning. (Rather, it was what they considered to be morning, having developed a schedule of sleeping and waking. They had no idea when morning actually came around.)

"What is it now?" Nott asked groggily.

"My back," Hermione replied. "I think I pinched a nerve."

"Yeah, well, sleeping in a dungeon can do that to you," he quipped. "I have pretty much forgotten what it feels like to not be in pain."

"Nobody asked you."

"Well, you were complaining, so I figured I should, too."

"Shut up."

"You shut up," was his childish retort.

"Ugh!" Hermione was so frustrated with her companion that she gave up and turned around.

This bickering continued for several days, until Hermione had had enough. "SHUT! UP!" she screamed. "I didn't ask to be in this situation! I am so sick of listening to you, Mr. High and Mighty, tell me that you have it so much worse off just because your stupid father is upstairs! I don't want to be here! I most definitely don't want to be here with you! All I want is a God-damn pillow so my head doesn't hurt so fucking much!"

_Poof_.

Hermione was so shocked that her anger dissipated instantly. She looked up at Nott, and he seemed to have had the same change in attitude. They looked again at the pillow that had just appeared between them, their argument forgotten.

"How?" was all that Hermione could manage.

"I—magic?" Nott responded intelligently.

"It must have been accidental magic," Hermione mused.

"Of course!" Nott exclaimed. "Think about it! Magical children have no control over their powers, so they have bursts of accidental magic fueled by pure emotion."

"So just now, when I was angry and frustrated, the thing I wanted most was a pillow, so I conjured one accidentally."

"Not to mention without a wand."

"But that means…"

"If we could figure out how to do controlled wandless magic, we could do something about our situation!"

"We could conjure another pillow, and some blankets!"

"And fresh water," Nott said longingly.

"We could bathe!" Hermione added.

Then they looked at each other, and the thought of the other bathing brought each back to their senses. They suddenly remembered that they were prisoners, and they couldn't stand one another. Hermione grabbed her pillow and laid down facing away from Nott, who did the same.

* * *

"Come on," Nott pleaded. "It's not fair! You're not even using it!"

"No. It's mine. I conjured it myself."

"By accident! And besides, you never would have done it if I hadn't made you so angry. I helped you conjure it, therefore I should get to use it."

"That is absurd reasoning!" Hermione protested. "If you want a pillow so badly, conjure one yourself."

"I've tried! Wandless magic is hard!"

"Gee, you think? I wonder if that's why they gave us wands?"

"You are insufferable!"

"You know, so many people have told me that, I think there must be a club. You should join it!"

"There probably is. An "I Hate Hermione Granger" club. I'll be president!"

"Wow, you're hilarious. Please, tell me another one!"

"For Merlin's sake, woman! Do you ever shut up?"

"Not usually, no."

"Well, do the world a favor, and start now!"

"Theodore Nott, you are the most arrogant, annoying, ungrateful piece of—"

"BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP!" This voice came from upstairs. They heard footsteps coming toward the door of the dungeon. Hermione and Nott looked at each other in terror. Quickly, they threw pillow and the jar of flames in Hermione's bag, and Nott shoved it in the back of his shirt just as the door opened.

Lucius Malfoy stood at the top of the stairs, looking furious. Hermione turned to Nott in panic, and the look on his face told her he had the same fear she did. They were loud enough to be heard upstairs. How much had the Malfoys heard? Did they know they were attempting wandless magic? Hermione prayed to any higher being that was listening that her bag would be safe. "Do you realize how loud you are being?" Lucius yelled. "You are prisoners! And while I relish the thought of you two being as miserable as possible, you are in my home, and you are disturbing my breakfast! Now, I have been forbidden to kill you, so you are quite lucky in that respect. However," Lucius pointed his wand at each of them in turn, muttering, "Silencio." He pocketed his wand and said, "There. That ought to keep you quiet." Then he turned and left.

As soon as the door shut, Hermione let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. She turned to Nott again, and saw her relief mirrored on his face. Malfoy hadn't realized what they were up to. They must not have been too loud while they were talking about that bit. Hermione pulled the flames out of her bag, as well as a piece of parchment and a Muggle ballpoint pen.

_That was close, _she wrote._ We need to be more careful._

Nott gestured that he wanted to write. **What the hell is this thing?** He held up the pen.

_A pen. Muggle invention. Much better for writing than a quill, especially when you're on the run._

**Weird. How do you get the ink in?**

_It's already in._ Hermione unscrewed the cap and pulled the ink stick out of the pen to show him, then put it back and continued writing. _But that's not important right now. We were being stupid, and it almost cost us._

**Yeah. Clearly, Malfoy didn't figure out what we're doing, but I still didn't like it.**

_We can't keep acting like children. If we're going to survive this, we need to stop rowing and work together._

**I agree. I'm sorry for baiting you.**

_I'm sorry for taking the bait._

**Great. Now that that's settled, what do we do now?**

_Well, the Silencing Charm won't last forever. So I suppose we wait for it to wear off, and in the meantime, we read._

**I guess that's as good a plan as any.**

Hermione and Nott spent the next few days reading her books. Though she had read many of them before, there were many more that she had taken from Grimmauld Place during their stay there. She was fascinated by them, and spent hours pouring through them.

Hermione was reading a book on wandlore one day, when she came upon an informative passage:

_"The history of wandlore is a fascinating one, indeed. For many centuries, the only known magic was wandless. Many people were born with magic, but few could control it, and those who could tired easily. Even the simplest of charms caused minor exhaustion, and anything more than that warranted much rest. The first recorded use of a wand was by an ancient Chinese wizard (whose name has been lost over the centuries), who theorized that combining the power found within the wizard with that found in another magical creature would magnify his power to something incredible without the physical strain. His early attempts, however, proved to be disastrous. The first experiment, drenching his hands in the blood of a dragon he slew, destroyed the entire village he had just saved. The second time, he drew runes on his arms with the ashes of a phoenix on Burning Day, and set fire to a great forest, which took a thousand years to re-grow. With these tragedies, the wizard realized he was correct about the increase in power, but he had no means to control it. After some time, he came to the conclusion that since certain woody plants acted as stabilizers in potions, perhaps they could have the same effect on magic. And so the first wand was created, from a bamboo stalk and the feather of a Xiao. With his wand, the wizard traveled the world, learning all he could and perfecting the art of wandlore."_

"Oh, my God. Nott." Hermione said quietly.

"What?" Nott didn't even look up from his book.

"You and I. We're magical creatures."

"Very observant, you are."

"No, no, listen to this." And she read the passage out loud. "If we could gather the strength to make wands, we could get out of here!"

Nott looked up at her, the ghost of hope in his eyes. "The cellar is warded."

"Yes, but probably just from physical escape. The Malfoy's would never be stupid enough to leave someone down here with a wand. So they may not have even bothered warding against magical means of escaping."

Nott looked like he desperately wanted to agree with her, but wouldn't let himself. "I don't know, Granger," he said warily.

"Come on, we have to at least try!" Hermione pleaded. "Harry and Ron are out there somewhere, and as much as I love them, they need my help."

"How can you even be sure of that?" he asked her. "They could have been captured, the Dark Lord might have already won."

"He hasn't. I'm still alive, aren't I?" Hermione reasoned. "They're only keeping me here as bait. If they caught Harry, they would have fed me to Greyback already.

"But…" Nott was running out of arguments. "What if it doesn't work?"

"Then it doesn't work, and we aren't any worse off than we are right now."

After a pause, Nott said, "All right, we'll try it. But we have to do as much research as we can first. And we'll have to rest a lot, so we have the strength to do the wandless magic required."

Hermione grinned widely, glad to have a purpose again. She was going to find her friends.

* * *

"Come on! I'm so hungry!" Hermione growled at the meager amount of food on her plate.

"Why don't you try multiplying it?" Nott asked her.

"What?"

"If you want more food, multiply what you have. That doesn't break Gamp's Law," he said reasonably.

"That…" Hermione trailed off. "That is such a simple solution, and yet it is something we never thought of. How could I have been so stupid?"

"You've lost me."

"With Harry and Ron. We were always so hungry, because we didn't have any food, and we couldn't steal enough to make a decent meal. But we could have just stolen tiny amounts and multiplied it. Damn it!"

"Well to be fair, you were fairly stressed, running for your lives, and all," Nott said logically. "Also, you lived in the Muggle world longer than the Magical one, so it is perfectly reasonable that you would revert to that way of thinking."

"Ron has been in the Magical world his whole life, though! He could have thought of it."

"Yes, but this is Weasley we're talking about here. From what I understand, his mother always cooked. He probably never even had to touch raw food."

"Why are you being so damn logical when I just want to be mad?" Hermione said loudly. "We could have been well fed, and been thinking straight, and sweet Merlin, how things could have been different!"

"Well, they're not different, so instead of obsessing over things we can't change, why don't we try to work on this now?"

"But—"

"No. I hate complaining. It makes me hit things."

"Fine."

"Now try to multiply your bread crumbs."

Hermione stared at the bread on the plate, concentrating hard on her wish to have more bread. "_Gemino_," she said forcefully. Nothing happened. "_Gemino_!" she said again, with the same result. "Ugh! This is ridiculous! Why is this so hard?"

"Well, performing magic with and without a wand are two completely different things. Many people can't do anything without a wand. Then consider the fact that we have been trained for the last seven years to rely purely on our wands. We were never even taught any kind of wandless magic. So of course it's going to be hard."

"But—" Hermione started.

"But what?"

"It's just…I've only encountered a few things that were hard for me before. Primary school was a joke, and even at Hogwarts, most things only took me a few tries."

"There was something you couldn't do first try?" Nott asked. "I thought you were Hermione Granger, the Brightest Witch of Her Age."

"I have never said that," said Hermione defensively. "Someone else came up with that moniker. I don't even like it."

"Whatever. So what did you have issues with?"

"The Patronus charm, for one. It took me a couple years to get anything more than mist."

"You can conjure a corporeal Patronus?" Nott asked, impressed despite himself. "What is it?"

"An otter. And it's not so impressive. Harry could do it after a couple months. In third year, no less."

"What? Potter can do it? Even I can't! When we get out of here, you have to teach me."

"Deal. Now shut up, so I can concentrate."

"Here, let me try." Nott looked at the lone moldy strawberry sitting on the plate. "_Gemino_!" he said loudly. He got the same result as Hermione. He swore. Then he took a deep breath, closed his eyes and concentrated hard. Hermione saw his hand flex as if he were holding a wand, then flatten out. When he opened his eyes, they had a different look to them. "_Gemino_," he said quietly, and Hermione watched in amazement as a second, equally moldy strawberry appeared in front of him.

"You did it!" Hermione screeched. She grabbed the berry and looked at it carefully. "It's exactly the same! How did you do that?"

"I'm not sure," Nott replied quietly, his eyes back to normal. "But I'm so tired. That book was right. Wandless magic is exhausting."

"Here," said Hermione, and she pushed the pillow over to him, where he promptly collapsed into unconsciousness.

Hermione tried again. She tried to recreate Nott's movements. She closed her eyes, flexed her hand, and willed the strawberry to be two. When she opened her eyes, she was disappointed. There were still only the two strawberries on the plate.

"Damn it!" she yelled, and threw the entire plate across the room. If she couldn't get the hang of wandless magic, how were they ever going to get out of this dungeon?

She sat back thinking again about what Nott had done. He had looked for a minute like he was holding a wand, and then didn't. There was something significant about that, but she couldn't figure out exactly what it was. "Wake up, Nott!" she said to him, knowing it was fruitless. By all accounts, wandless magic deprived the caster of energy very quickly, and they didn't have much to begin with. But she just wanted to ask him what he had done, so she could do it, too.

Then she had an idea. Maybe Nott had been rejecting the use of a wand. Perhaps that was the key! She retrieved the strawberry and sat it in front of her. Then she closed her eyes once again. She imagined she had a wand in her hand, and clutched it tightly. She focused on the feeling of casting a spell, concentrating not on the spell itself, as she usually did, but on the way her body felt. She imagined a slight tingling traveling down her arm to her wand.

Her eyes snapped open. That was it! And she spoke out loud, then.

"My name is Hermione Granger. I am a witch. I was born a witch. I came into this world with magical powers. I did not come with a wand. The magic comes from me!"

Hermione then stopped before the magic she now felt could travel all the way to her phantom wand. She held it inside of her until she felt as if she would burst, then closed her eyes and directed it all the way to the strawberry in front of her.

She kept her eyes closed for a few seconds, afraid that she would open them and find nothing had changed. But when she cracked one eye, there were two strawberries before her!

"Yes!" she whispered victoriously. Elated, she tried again, but found she had not the strength. She laid down next to her friend and quickly fell asleep.

* * *

Over the next few days, Hermione and Nott poured through all the books she had on wands, wandlore, and wandless magic.

_"The wood chosen for the wand is dependent on the creature supplying the core. The more powerful the creature, the stronger the wood must be."_

_"Many theories exist on how wands choose their wizards. Some believe it has to do with the personalities of the wizard and the magical creature. Others believe geographic origins of the families and the trees native to that area create the link. However, nothing has ever been proven, so all of this is merely speculation."_

_"Wandless magic is the most difficult to teach, as every wizard experiences it differently. Those most proficient have reported that they reached a certain point when they "just understood," for lack of better phrasing. From that point on, the magic came very naturally to them."_

"Well, this is a load of bullshit," Hermione said in frustration, and slammed her book shut.

"Watch that mouth, Granger," Nott said without looking up. "There are innocents present."

She gave him a scathing look, which he didn't see. "Kiss my arse, Nott."

That got him to look up. He knew she must be really upset to be that rude. "What?" he asked. "You didn't expect this to be easy, did you? That You-Know-Who would plop us down here, but let us get out whenever we wanted to?"

"Of course not. I'm not an imbecile," Hermione retorted. "I'm just…so frustrated. I hate not being useful. I'm stuck in this damn dungeon reading about how I could be out there helping, but I can't actually do anything. And we've been through these books at least once each. I can't see how we can learn anything new from them at this point, but since we don't have access to new books, there's nothing we can do about that. And on top of all that—"

"Hermione!" Nott cut her off, and the shock of hearing her first name come out of his mouth shut her up. "Merlin, you've been complaining for days! I understand that you're upset, but griping about our situation isn't going to solve anything. So sit down, shut up, and get back to work!"

Hermione was so stunned that she did what he said. Harry and Ron had never stood up to her like that. She kind of liked it. It was nice to be challenged for once. She went back to her book, smiling slightly.

"I'm sorry," Nott said a few minutes later.

"What?"

"I shouldn't have snapped at you," Nott explained. "I'm sorry."

"No, you were right," Hermione countered. "I sometimes forget that I'm the only one who likes the sound of my voice, and I need to be reminded."

Nott let out a bark of laughter. "I'll remember that next time I tell you off and you start sulking."

"Whatever."

* * *

Author's Note:

I would like to point out that I said at the very beginning that I would be taking liberties with Nott's character, and him having a brother is one of them. I realize the books never mentioned a brother, but as far as I know (it has been several years since I've read the series beginning to end), they never say he doesn't have one, either.

Please leave me a review telling me what you think! Thanks for reading!


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